


Trial by Fire

by EmeryldLuk



Series: Merryn, Dragon Princess [2]
Category: Brave (2012), Disney Princesses, Treasure Planet (2002)
Genre: Aromantic, Dragon characters - Freeform, F/M, Injury, Non-romantic love, Original Character(s), Raiding, Vikings, raised by dragons, twelve years old
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25128388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeryldLuk/pseuds/EmeryldLuk
Summary: Merryn has grown up in the care of her Odassa, living as any baby dragon would. Her two draconic cousins love her company and often bring her along when they play. Now they are going on their first raid together and Merryn is not going to miss out. It all seems to go wonderfully until Merryn is shot out of the sky and separated from her cousins.Jim Hawkins and his mother have only lived in the small fishing village for a couple of years and now they must flee with what they can carry as the forest fire threatens their tiny home on the edge. They load up their wagon with essentials and ride south. On the way, they find a girl dressed in strange armor unconscious on the road.
Relationships: Jim Hawkins/Merida (Disney)
Series: Merryn, Dragon Princess [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1410544
Kudos: 1





	1. The Raid

“Watch your backs,” the massive dragon with scales like deep water on the horizon rumbled as they paced in the entryway. “And keep an eye on each other.”

“We know,” she assured them, loping over so she could rub her cheek on their leg. The size difference would have seemed staggering if not for who they were. “Odassa, it will be fine. I will be with Rviyn the whole time.”

Rviyn, a juvenile about the same size as a grizzly bear with scales the color of wine, piped up from his rocky perch outside. “Yes, Merryn will be safe. We promise.”

“We promise,” Rviyn’s brother, Sohn, chorused with a bob of his head, bright red scales glittering in the light of the moon.

Merryn was nothing like her cousins or her guardian. Her scales were scavenged, sewn onto scraps of deer hide and laced onto her arms and legs. Under the blue cloth wrappings she wore, her skin was peach and delicate; prone to breaking. She had hair of all the things growing out of her scalp, and while it was a lovely shade of fire, it made her feel self-conscious of the differences between her and her family.

They snorted, a small burst of flames falling on the stony ground. “You keep your distance and watch out for archers. You are too young for your scales to be impenetrable and heavens forbid if they strike your wings. Be swift. It is your greatest advantage to overwhelm the humans.”

“We know, Iovis!” Sohn complained. “You’ve said all this a hundred times.”

“I merely mean to be thorough.” They grunted, folding their wings in tight to their sides. “Be safe and bring back something good.”

“Yes,” Merryn and Sohn chorused. Rviyn crouched, letting Merryn climb into his back. She fitted her feet into stirrups that hung from a harness that fitted over Rviyn’s shoulders above his wings. The “saddle”, as her Odassa called it, was crafted from thick cow leather and bear fur to keep it from chafing. She wrapped her fingers around the handles and bent down over Rviyn’s neck.

Rviyn took off, launching high into the air as his wings beat up a wind in his wake. Sohn let out a gleeful shriek and followed suit. Merryn kept her head down, waiting until they had reached cruising altitude to relax back.

She felt a little giddy like always when they went flying. It was colder than on the ground, but she enjoyed the sting of the air on her cheeks. The world laid out like a painting rounded on the edges, with splashes of blue among the myriad of greens. To the North, the mountains cut through the forest with their pale gray and crisp white. To the West, the colors of trees and farms ran on for miles into a line of deep blue that never ended. To the South, a small city sprouted from the greenery like an old scale itching to be plucked. To the East, the gray of the mountains blacked out all but a few hints of more green and yellow on the other side.

Merryn looked at the oppressive expanse, wondering not for the first time what was on the other side. Odassa only ever spoke of how dangerous it was on the other side for their kind.

“Where should we go?” Sohn inquired, gliding next to her and Rviyn. “Northern Humans always have shiny things.”

“Including weapons,” Rviyn said. “We should head west to the ocean. Less danger.”

“No point to this if there is no danger,” Merryn said. “Let’s just see what we find.”

“Race you!” Sohn shot forward. Merryn barely had a second to grab on before Rviyn dove after him.

The cold nipped at her nose. She held on tight as the two strove to gain the lead, flying through wisps of cloud that left droplets on their scales. Merryn leaned in as Rviyn swung left, following the curve of the land as the mountains fell away. They sped over the expanse of greenery, a single wide river cutting its way east and south.

“There,” Sohn announced as they turned to follow the coast. Below, a cluster of buildings surrounded a dock with a few small ships. The town had no walls, open to the forest around it and drenched in the smell of salt and fish.

Rviyn circled twice, allowing them time to check the defenses.

“Looks small,” Merryn said.

“Not too small,” Sohn disagreed. “At least a dozen shelters.”

“No army,” Rviyn said, “so no problem. Swoop in, burn a few houses, and chase off the people. Easy.”

“Alright, Let’s get ‘em.” Merryn leaned in, hugging her cousin close.

Sohn dove first with a gleeful roar. He twisted, flying just above the rooftops. He was singing a classic lullaby, but the people screamed anyway. Merryn giggled. Rviyn glided down, chiming in with the second verse.

They made a single loop around to the northern edge of the town as some of the people came out with spears and harpoons meant for fishing. Rviyn spun around and spat a stream of fire at them, careful to aim first at their feet.

Sohn crashed down on the other side, lunging with his teeth and claws to spur them into a fearful frenzy.

A wild yell drew Merryn’s attention to her side where a young man charged at Rviyn’s flank with a spear. She drew the belt knife she carried and kicked free of the saddle. The young man faltered, having not seen her on the dragon’s back. As the point of his spear drooped, she jumped down and stabbed.

The spear fell abandoned as the youth ran to nurse an injured hand. Merryn dropped back to Rviyn’s side, knife at the ready.

The dragons chased off what remained of the humans with a couple more fire blasts and impressive yells. Sohn snickered and sauntered down to the docks in search of a snack. Rviyn stuck his head in a doorway, and then forced the rest of his body through the opening. The wood arch cracked and splintered.

“You want help with that?” Merryn joked, ducking in behind him. He pushed aside a table and sat in the middle of the living space. She picked up a wooden carving of a rabbit, turned it over in her hand and then put it back down.

“They do love to live in cramped spaces,” Rviyn commented, nosing at the pot full of cooking soup. “See anything you like?”

“Not yet.” Merryn peered at a few clay pots full of some sort of sticky, colorful liquids. She dipped a finger in one and it came out coated in the shade of autumn leaves.

“What about a rug?” Rviyn gently pulled a throw from the hearth. The weaving depicted a pair of lovers in front of a waterfall.

“Ew,” Merryn gagged. “No thanks. I’m going to go search a different house.”

She walked down the street, pondering which building to look at, when Sohn barreled around the corner. He ducked an arrow aimed at his head.

“Vikings!” he yelled. “Vikings!”

Merryn sprinted back to where she left Rviyn. The dragon was already making his way out with a confused scowl.

“Vikings? We’re nowhere near viking territory,” Rviyn argued as he pushed his way out of the house. There was a groan and the wall crumbled behind him.

Sohn skidded to a stop, throwing up a cloud of dust. “Well, they’re here. We need the leave and find somewhere else to raid.”

“Oh, fine, but if this is a prank- what was that!” Rviyn ducked as a javelin thudded into the ground past them. They looked down the road and saw the first of many more men garbbed in furs and armor. One drew on a longbow.

“Vikings!” Rviyn yelled as Merryn climbed onto his back. He and Sohn took off at the same time, creating a wind strong enough to knock away the arrows that came at them.

Merryn glanced down as they rose up over the town. Another javelin shot low, quickly followed a spear, thrown with great strength at Sohn. Sohn rolled to the side and aimed a stream of fire behind them.

A volley of arrows arced upward. Sohn and Rviyn swerved to either side as the arrows passed. Rviyn let out a roar as two pierced his side. One struck Merryn from the saddle.

“Merryn!” Sohn dropped, claws outstretched. More arrows forced him to pull up instead. He circled higher.

Merryn wasn’t sure why it had gotten noisy all of a sudden. Something hurt, a lot, and then a great many things, and then nothing.


	2. The Flight

Jim clutched his wooden doll tight as his mother yelled for him to hurry up. She rushed out of the small hut, tossing a wadded up blanket in the back of the wagon. He shoved the rest of his clothes into the middle of his own blanket and ran out. She dashed back once more, grabbing a small cook pot and a few utensils.

Jim climbed into the back of the wagon and stared at the forest to the west. Smoke trickled out of the trees.

“Mother,” Jim called, watching the smoke grow thicker. She bundled the cooking tools into the wagon and climbed onto the driver’s seat. With a crack of the reins, the mule snorted and pulled the wagon into motion.

He set his doll, an image of a sailor, on the side of the wagon and peered off into the trees and the faint glow of orange. Their home for the past two years was soon out of sight, hidden by the turn of the road.

“Where will we go now?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Jim,” she answered. The wagon rolled over a bump, causing the loose possessions to chime and rattle. “Stay down.”

Jim leaned over the side. His thoughts tumbled in his head. How long until they had a home again? How long would that one last? He could remember living in three different towns, three different houses, since he was young. The first time, they’d also lost his father when strangers stormed through the town, killing and burning everything in sight. That was the beginning, and Jim wondered if it would ever end.

A dragon roared overhead and a shadow flickered past the canopy of leaves. Jim ducked, hoping to remain unseen. When the shadow remained gone, Jim propped himself back up on the side of the wagon and peered off into the trees.

Blue light flashed from within the shifting green. Jim raised his head and saw it again. This time a deeper blue like the sky after a storm could be seen on the forest floor. The leaves rustled and he caught sight of red like the wool threads he’d seen women spinning.

“Mother, look!” He pointed into the undergrowth so his mother would see. “What is it?”

Mrs. Hawkins pulled the mule to a halt and squinted into the trees. The light shifted and the leaves lifted in a breeze. Catching sight of the colors, she stood up on the bench to see better.

“Stay here,” she said, her breath catching. She climbed down and hiked up the hem of her dress to make her way through the trees. Jim watched as she knelt, inspecting what was on the ground. After a moment of fussing, Mrs. Hawkins bent over, gathering her arms under a limp form.

“Lay out one of the blankets,” she said, stepping away from a bush that clung to her dress. She carried a young girl in the strangest kind of armor Jim had ever seen. Quickly unrolling one of their wool blankets, Jim spread it out over the space he’d been sitting in. Mrs. Hawkins grunted as she lifted the girl over the side of the wagon, unable to set her down gently.

“Get one of the wash cloths and press it to the side of her head. She’s hurt, but we’ll have to treat her later.”

Jim nodded and began looking through the bundles. Mrs. Hawkins wimped her hands on her thighs and climbed back onto the driving bench. With a click of her tongue and a slap of the reigns, they began to move again.

Jim pulled a couple of grey squares of cotton and pressed one to the side of the girl’s head where a gash cut through her tangles of fiery hair. He could help but stare for how striking she appeared.

Streaks of dark red had been painted in slanted lines on her face. She wore what seemed to be a long tunic and bandages wrapped her legs. Her shoes were rough and misshapen, obviously not made by someone accustomed to the craft. Over her tunic, she wore a breastplate of the most reflective material Jim had ever seen. Made of multiple pieces of different sizes all layered over each other to fit her shape, it held shades as deep as the ocean and as bright as greek fire.

Unable to resist, Jim brushed his fingers over the armor and softly gasped at how cold it was. The girl was still warm to the touch, but her armor felt like ice on his skin.

She moaned, twitching for a moment. Jim pulled back, clutching the red stained cloth in one hand. She let out a small growl and then went quiet.

“Everything alright back there?” Mrs. Hawkins asked. She checked on them over her shoulder, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Jim nodded slowly and knelt back at the girl’s side, pressing the cloth to her sticky curls.

“Who are you?” Jim whispered. The wagon rolled on, eventually leaving the threatening smoke cover and heat behind. He shifted a few items to sit next to her.

Mrs. Hawkins drew the wagon off the road after an hour of driving to be sure they were in no danger from the forest fire, nor further attacks by the dragons. Climbing into the back with the two kids, she bent over the girl with the greatest care. 

She sent Jim to the stream that ran under the road not far from them to wash the cloths he’d used and began to remove the girl’s armor. Mrs. Hawkins undid the laces that ran up her side and lifted the leather away. Underneath, a dark splotch marred the blue of the tunic where the point of an arrow peeked out of her shoulder.

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Hawkins muttered, feeling for the shaft and finding two in the girl’s back. With a sigh, she rolled the girl over and cut through the tunic with a small knife.

Jim ran back with the cloths damp and clean. He made a face upon seeing the bloody wounds and turned away.

“Get my sewing kit out for me,” Mrs. Hawkins told him, noting his expression. “Did you see where I put it?”

“Yes, Mother,” he answered. She set her shoulders and gripped the broken arrow shaft sticking out of the middle of the girl’s back. Slicked by fluids, the shafted resisted being removed, but tore free of the muscle after a second pull. She pressed one cloth over the wound.

Jim offered a small leather bag tied shut with cord. She took it with one hand.

“Hold that,” she told him, indicating the cloth. “Keep pressure.”

He nodded, do as told, though his face looked a shy bit greener around the edges. He watched his mother intently as she threaded a needle. He looked away completely when she stuck her needle into the girl’s skin.

“You okay?”

He nodded, hoping his stomach would settle.

“Good. I’m going to need your help again in a moment.”

“Yes, Mother.”

To get the second arrow out, Mrs. Hawkins rolled the girl onto her side with Jim supporting from the back and pushed it though. She placed a rolled up cloth against the freshly widened hole and laid her back on her front.

Jim managed to keep himself together long enough for his mother to finish sewing. Feeling his stomach lurch, he rushed off the wagon and bent over the side of the road.

Mrs. Hawkins heard his noise, but could not stop her work to check on him. She hastened to cut up one of the thinner blankets to use for bandaging. The girl stirred, uttering something in a low, guttural tone. Mrs. Hawkins put a hand on the girl’s head and clicked her tongue at finding it on the warm side.

Jim began to climb back up, his complexion clearer, but was promptly sent to clean the cloths a second time. He jogged down the muddy bank, secretly relieved to be away. Drenching the red soaked cloths in the stream, he wondered where the girl had come from. He’d never seen such armor before, and the face paint didn’t look like the kind used by any clans he knew of. Not that he knew of many, but that hardly mattered.

He returned to the wagon and handed over the freshly rinsed cloth. Mrs. Hawkins handed him their bucket to fill with water.

“You’re gonna have to keep an eye on her,” Mrs. Hawkins instructed when he had the bucket filled. “She’s got a fever and there’s risk of the arrow wounds becoming infected.”

He nodded. “What should I do?”

She gestured to the cloth laid over the girl’s forehead. “When this cloth warms, cool it in the water and put it back. If she starts sweating, cover her with more blankets. Also, keep her from moving. She’s bound to be delirious and might thrash around and that will tear the stitching. Got it?”

He nodded again, staring at the girl. Her war paint had begun to smear, letting him see more of the cute freckled face underneath.

Mrs. Hawkins let out a soft groan and checked that the blanket was tucked in tight around the girl’s sides.

“Okay, we should get going. I want to try and reach the next town by nightfall.”

Carefully, she climbed down and Jim took her place in the back of the wagon. The girl’s face scrunched for a moment then returned to it’s lax position. The wagon lurched forward and they rumbled on down the road.


	3. Recovery

A melody floated around her head like a fog. Familiar like a dream she couldn’t remember, the words were soft and gentle. The voice sang of a lost soul wandering in search of something they couldn’t know.

Merryn struggled to open her eyes as if great weights hung from the lids. A blue sky broken by faded green filled what vision she gained. A bird flew by. She let her eyes close, exhausted still.

The song left by the time she found the energy to open her eyes again. The sky was clouded by more leaves and branches and the constant rumbling seemed everywhere. The warmth of someone next to her pressed into her side. Merryn turned her head and caught sight of a small form curled up like a fox.

An ache set in behind her eyes, so she laid back with a groan. A voice rose above the rumbling for a moment. Merryn couldn’t make out the words, and so ignored them. She thought of Rviyn and Sohn, wondering where they were. She was sure they’d only just gone out for their first raid.

She coughed once and then again. Her breath caught short. Merryn fought to sit up despite how weak she felt and pain lanced through her body. She had to breathe.

“Hang on,” a voice said as hands lifted her onto her side. It helped, though she still coughed up her lungs.

When Merryn could breathe again, she could feel how much everything hurt. She rolled onto her back and bit her lip.

“Better?” the voice asked. Squinting up, Merryn made out a human face framed by brown hair. Any alarm she felt at being at the whims of a human suffocated under her fatigue. A wet cloth rubbed over her head and neck.

“Rest. You’re safe.”

Merryn meant only to close her eyes for a second, but it was dark out when she opened them again. Trying to sit up only left her exhausted and still bundled under a thick wool blanket. Something creaked.

“You’re awake.”

Merryn turned to see the speaker. A human with scruffy brown hair. They were no bigger than Merryn, sitting on a chair with a steaming bowl in their hands. They were in some kind of wooden room, with a second bed on the other side of the human and little else.

The human stared, so Merryn stared back.

They looked away, uncomfortable and uncertain. “How do you feel?”

Merryn tried to tell them off, but her words came out dry and broken. They jolted upright, nearly spilling the contents of the bowl in their rush to stand.

“Sorry I- hang on.” The human fumbled their way to a pitcher and cup. Merryn watched them warily as they poured what looked like water into the cup and walked over. Weak as she was, Merryn had no way of refusing to drink or in refusing the help she needed to do so.

“Where am I?” she asked, forgetting to not speak draconic.

The cup fell to the floor, spilling the rest of the water. The human’s eyes widened.

“What?” she whispered.

They nearly jumped out of their skin when the door creaked open. Another human came in with a wicker basket, closing the door before looking over. This was the one Merryn had seen before. The one that liked to sing. They smiled.

“You’re awake. That’s a good sign to see. Jim, what are you standing there for? She’s bound to be thirsty.”

“I already did, Mother.” Jim knelt to pick up the cup. Their eyes met Merryn’s for a moment and fear flickered through them. Ducking their head, Jim replaced the cup by the water pitcher. 

“Where am I?” Merryn asked again, remembering herself this time. The youth frowned and hid behind the older one.

With a smile they set aside the basket and came to sit next to Merryn and laid their fingers on Merryn’s forehead. “A small town south of Rishallow. How do you feel?”

“Tired. What about my cousins?”

The human faltered, drawing back their hand. “We found no one else. Only you in the forest.”

Merryn silently hoped for the best. She could remember now how she’d fallen from the saddle.

“Your fever came down. Are you hungry?”

Merryn shook her head, quietly wondering how she was going to get back home.

The human smoothed over the blanket. “Get some rest then. We’ll have to leave in the morning. We could only borrow this room for one night.”

Merryn shot a sideways glance at the youngling with the way they fidgeted nervously in the background and closed her eyes. She wasn’t ready to sleep yet, but there was little else she could do.

After a few minutes of fussing over the blankets, cleaning up the spilled water, and double checking on Merryn, Mrs. Hawkin went back to the laundry. After a couple of days on the road, they’d found this small town early in the morning. Although it was too small to have an inn, the owners had a spare room that used to be for their sons before the war took them away. Mrs. Hawkins had found some respite in being able to properly tend to the girl’s wounds and clean the smoke and soot from their clothes.

The girl’s tunic needed mending of course. The scale covered armor had been discreetly hidden in the wagon. Mrs. Hawkins wondered, of course, of the material used, but left that to a more relaxed day.

Jim eventually took his seat again and began in on his soup, but he had little appetite after hearing the girl snarl at him in some beast-like tongue. 

“Mother.”

“Yes, Jim?” Mrs. Hawkins plied her needle to the tunic in her lap.

“Umm-”

“If you have a question, then ask.”

He faltered. “No, nevermind. I can figure it out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhmm,” Jim mumbled, slurping up more of the soup.

“Speak up.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He finished his soup and took the dishes back downstairs.

Mrs. Hawkins gently shook Merryn awake in the morning. Merryn flinched, weakly pushing away the offered hands. Mrs. Hawkins huffed and pressed a cold muffin into the girl’s hand. Watching carefully from her bed, Merryn sniffed at the muffin before taking a cautious nibble.

Mrs. Hawkins placed Merryn’s mended clothes at the foot of the bed and then packed up her sewing kit.

Merryn frowned, confused as to how something so grainy was supposed to be edible. She set it aside and pushed off the blanket. Pain flared up in her shoulder and ribs.

“Go slow,” Mrs. Hawkins insisted, rushing back. “You’re still healing.”

Merryn looked down, running her fingertips over the cloth bandages wrapping her shoulder and chest. The feeling of something slamming into her back flashed in her mind. She clenched one hand into a fist.

“Are you alright?”

Merryn took a deep breath and coughed painfully. A few tears leaked from her eyes. “I’m Fine,” she said.

“Take it easy. Here.” Mrs. Hawkins picked up the discarded muffin. “You need to eat.”

Merryn folded her arms and glared at the lump. “Not food.”

“What? Of course it’s food. I know it’s cold, but it’s fine to eat.” Mrs. Hawkins held it out.

“No.”

“I know it’s not much, but we don’t have anything else, young lady,” Mrs. Hawkins stressed, moving the muffin closer to Merryn.

“I said, No!” The draconic burst out of her mouth before she could stop herself, right as her hand moved to knock the muffin across the room.

Mrs. Hawkins stared. Her mouth slowly closed and she looked to where the muffin sat on the dusty floor.

The door opened. “The wagons ready to go,” Jim announced. He looked around and stopped short, face freezing in an awkward expression.

“Go wait downstairs, Jim,” Mrs. Hawkins said, placing herself between him and the girl.

“Yes, Mother,” he agreed, shutting the door on his way out.

With a sigh, Mrs. Hawkins twirled a finger around the end of her braided hair. She started to reach out with a hand to Merryn, but stopped when the girl flinched back.

“Okay. Obviously, you’re not like us.” Mrs. Hawkins picked up Merryn’s tunic. “Shall we get dressed then?”

Merryn tried to get the clothes on by herself, but ended up needing help when every time she moved, pain crippled her.

Jim was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, crouched with his arms propping up his head. Mrs. Hawkins stayed at Merryn’s elbow, right there as the girl forced herself to climb down the steps on her own.

Merryn leaned heavily on the wall, breathing hard. The stairs twisted, dumping her the last couple steps. Jim lunged, throwing his arms in front of Merryn when she fell. They both hit the floor.

Merryn groaned, curling around her injured shoulder. Jim sat up and rubbed his elbow.

“Are you alright?” Mrs. Hawkins inquired, bending over Merryn. “I did say you shouldn’t walk alone.”

Merryn looked at Jim and scowled at the floor. He got up, taking a step back. Mrs. Hawkins bent down to pick Merryn up, but she pushed back, growling softly a warning.

Mrs. Hawkins frowned and scooped up the girl as easily as a bag of potatoes. “You do not learn.”

“Put me down,” Merryn grunted to no avail. Mrs. Hawkins carried the girl outside and placed her in the back of the wagon.

“There. You’re down. So stay down.”

Merryn tried to get up, but failed to find the strength. “I have to leave. My cousins.”

“You are in no condition to go anywhere on your own. Either your cousins are dead in the fire and there’s no point in going back, or they’re fine. In which case, it’s better for you to rest up and heal.” Mrs. Hawkins pressed her fingers to her temple. “I’m sorry.”

Merryn rested on the wall of the wagon, refusing to cry no matter how much she wanted to. Jim climbed up as well, but only after Mrs. Hawkins told him he could not sit up front with her. Merryn glared at him until he moved to the other side, as far from her as he could get. Then she sullenly glared at the scenery until she was tired of doing that.


End file.
